Superfamily
by thatcutellamachan
Summary: Steve Rogers / Tony Stark were having a relationship they preferred to keep out of the public eye. Everything, surprisingly, was perfect. When Nick Fury dumped the recently orphaned Peter Parker, Spiderman into their laps, things were more then perfect. Of course, "perfect" might not be the best way to describe it. Peter POV
1. Chapter 1

** The Superfamily Prompt is a rather crack idea where Tony Stark / Iron Man and Steve Rogers / Captain America are living together and raising Peter Parker / Spiderman. Loki is godfather. It was not explained. I assume the Avenger's plus Thor are living in Stark Towers (soon to be the Avenger's Tower) and I will also assume the presence of all of the Marvel-verse that have made film appearances, though they will be supporting characters only (as in X-Men and the Fantastic Four). Peter Parker/Spiderman's time line is relatively based off of Ultimate Spiderman. There will be a poll for Peter's pairing: Flash Thompson/Peter, Harry Osbourn/Peter, Mary Jane/Peter, Gwen Stacy/Peter, Deadpool-Wade Wilson/Peter, None, and Other in case I forgot one that is popular.**

* * *

Peter stared blankly at the paper. It contained a name he had never said before.

"Damn," he muttered as he stuffed his eraser in his mouth. "Stupid idiots." This was hell, this was worse then his initial discovery of the whole Iron Man / Captain America thing that he was never, never, ever supposed to talk about in public. His head _ached _from trying to wrap his mind around this.

Four months of official adoption and two months of pre-adoption-well-there's-this-teenager-living-in-my-house,-Steve,-because-Nick-Fury-asked-me-to-keep-him-after-his-aunt-died-in-Loki's-attack-since-the-teenager's-a-superhero-and-Fury-doesn't-want-anyone-abusive-or-foreign-getting-their-hands-on-it, had led to this. Peter's hand hovered over the paper, pencil at the ready. "Dad," he said as he read the word. "Tony or Steve?"

Fuck it. This was incredibly difficult, and Peter had saved Manhattan from imploding before. He did not want to offend, he did not want to cause trouble, he just... Steve made him breakfast and played ball with him and Tony took Peter to movies and after that talk they'd had last night about Tony feeling like he wasn't ready to raise a family but still wanting to try; Peter felt like he needed to do this. He even wanted to do this.

Peter had never managed to call anyone 'Dad' before. His own parents had died to early for Peter to even remember them, and Uncle Ben and Aunt May had always been Uncle and Aunt, if only in name. Having a 'Dad' and a 'Dad' was definitely different (and something which would have caused Aunt May to cry "Oh, my Lord!" and Uncle Ben to roll his eyes and mutter under his breath) but in a way it was better. This new 'family-thing' was different enough that Peter was hopeful the curse could be broken. He'd had four parents who had all died. At least these new parents were indestructible, however male they happened to be.

Maybe he should just call them 'Dads'. As in, when the both of them are present he should just say 'Dads'. As in 'Dads, shut up I already heard that story about the Black Widow' and 'Dads, pass the ketchup, I don't care if it's steak'. Peter bit his lip. They could be 'Dad' when they were separated, like when Peter was doing sports or something with Steve and when he was in Tony's lab. _That would work,_ Peter decided.

_But what if I want to talk to just one of them and they're both present?_

Peter chewed on the end of his pencil. He, deciding, wrote 'Steve + Tony = Dads', and 'Steve - Tony = Dad', 'Tony – Steve = Dad'. What other things do people call fathers?

"Where's my computer?" Peter mumbled. And he found his laptop on his desk, opened it, and turned to the God of his Age. Google. 'Names for Dad', Peter wrote, and he clicked on _Alternative Names for Dad and Mom_.

Pop. Peter sat up. _That's kind of old fashioned,_ he realized, and he knew immediately that it worked. Granted, it sounded like something a three year old would say, but Peter wasn't doing this for him. He was doing it to show how much he appreciated being taken in after his aunt had... passed.

"Pop," Peter said as he looked at the photographs above his desk. "Pop," he repeated when he found that photograph of Captain America. Peter grinned at the thought. "Dad."

_Now Tony Stark. _Peter's grin faded. He returned the eraser end of his pencil to his mouth and chewed. Peter scrolled down the website. Someone offered a link to names for 'Dad' in other languages, and, since Peter was _not _calling Tony 'Daddy' or 'Poppa', he clicked it.

Padre?

Oh, _God,_ no. Tony would never let Peter live that down.

That sight wasn't useful, and Peter kept scrolling down the next. Damn it. None of the names fit. Maybe he should try googling 'Nicknames for Tony Stark of Stark Enterprises, a.k.a. Iron Man'.

Maybe a pet name thing? Anthony Edward Stark.

Nope. Peter could not think of _anything._

AES? Sounded like a gas company. IM? Instant Messaging.

Peter crossed out 'Steve – Tony = Dad' and wrote 'Steve = Pop; Tony = Dad'. "There," he sat back and looked at his paper. Half a night's agonizing and the results worked. "Dads," he tested experimentally, "Dad, Pop." Peter shrugged. "Alright."

The problem, then, would be to actually instigate it without freaking out. They were probably expecting it though, he'd been calling all the other Avengers 'Aunt' and 'Uncles' for two months now.

* * *

Peter rushed downstairs. _Damn it. Not school. For God's sake, not school._

"You are late," JARVIS announced stoically just as Peter rushed into the kitchen. _Shit, _Peter thought. Steve looked up from the table, dressed in casual slacks for the day, and Tony was sitting down munching on food he obviously did not prepare, in partial Iron Man armor.

"Morning," Peter said as he opened the cabinet. _Dads!_

"I made you some toast," Steve said as he held out a plate with two pieces of buttered toast upon which were assorted fruits, just as Peter had liked it.

Peter grabbed a napkin and stuck the toast onto it after taking a bite. "Thanks," he said, his mouth full of food. _Pop!_

"You don't have to take the bus," Tony (_Dad_) said, standing up with a creak of his armor, "Cap can drive the Porsche I bought him, then you don't have to go all the way down the street."

"The red, white, and blue Porshe," Steve (Pop) muttered unhappily his breath as he cut open a banana and began to put peanut butter in between the slices. Tony smirked. "Take this too, Sport," Steve said, "it's the first day, you don't want to get hungry."

"Uh, thanks, and I'll walk," Peter said. He took the banana awkwardly in his other free hand.

"It's no trouble," Steve told Peter kindly, "I'm not on patrol today."

"I am," Tony rolled his eyes, as he always did when faced with the _outrage _of _Tony Stark _patrolling the city for danger.

Peter lifted one, butter-and-fruit filled, hand like a wave. "I think I can manage." He jogged to the door.

Steve, of course, easily passed him with his long, super powered gait and opened the penthouse door for Peter. "Alright, but how about Tony or I pick you up?"

_Damn_, Peter thought. Even Tony had stood up and was watching Peter from the kitchen door. "I'm going to go to work," Peter explained, "I called yesterday about getting my job back, since I hadn't gone since the... uh... _Loki Incident_."

Steve nodded, but Tony grimaced. "You want to work?" Tony wrinkled his nose.

"Yeah," Peter said. He blinked. "Okay, bye."

"Bye, Pete," Iron Man waved as Tony's armor covered his body.

Steve smiled. "See you later, Sport, have a good day at school."

"Thanks," Peter said. He froze. "Bye Dad," he said to Iron Man, "Bye Pop," he said to Steve. Then Peter jumped into the hallway and shut the door before he could see their faces. Dear God, did he always turn this red?

* * *

Peter, as he always did when sitting in a boring class, fingered his Spiderman suit beneath his collar. First day, last period, and he was already bored to tears. Mary-Jane wasn't getting back from that drama troup for two more weeks, and Peter hadn't seen Gwen or Harry all day. He would have to call. Peter had barely spoken to them since the Loki Incident... when Aunt May had died.

_I wonder if my Dads know I still go out?_ Peter blinked. Well, surely they know, after all, hardly a day goes by when Peter's suit isn't plastered over the Bugle. But then again, Tony never reads the newspaper and Steve has JARVIS only bring him the comics.

Current Events. Damn. You would think with Current Events like mutants, the Avengers, the Fantastic Four, alien invasions, mad scientists, and Earth-threatening asteroids that the class would be much more... exciting and less mind-numbingly awful.

It sucked also that the teacher, Ms. Flip, had _assigned _seats randomly. And Peter was smack dab in the back of the class between Flash Thompson and Kong McFarlane. Oh yes, the fact 'Peter Parker' had been signing his name 'Peter Stark' for the past four months had not changed a thing, probably because no one had noticed and Tony had been keeping everything out of the press.

"I want all of you to think of some of the influential people of our time and I'm going to make a list here on the board," Ms. Flip announced.

Flash looked at Peter.

Peter tried not to look back, and in his head was thinking 'Shit'.

Someone raised their hand. "The President," she said.

"And who is our current president?" Ms. Flip asked.

After an awkward silence, someone else raised their hand, "Barack Obama."

"So, Puny Parker, you flunk out of school last year?"

"Flunk out of sophomore year of high school?" Peter thought, "Doesn't seem like something _I _would do." He looked at Flash.

Kong raised his hand.

Flash glared at Peter. "Fuck you, Parker, you were probably off at science camp getting high on calculators."

"Spiderman," Kong announced.

Peter flinched.

Ms. Flip nodded. "Yes, superheroes are highly influential people of our time. Now, who do you all think the most influential heroes are?"

"The Avengers," someone said.

Another person, in the minority, argued, "No, the Fantastic Four!"

"What about the X-Men?"

"The X-Men aren't heroes, Liz, they're mutants!"

"Yeah," Peter said, "we all gathered around a campfire, crushed calculators, and snorted them while quoting Star Trek."

"I spent my summer cleaning up New York, after the Loki Incident," Flash Thompson bragged, "what about you, Puny Parker?"

Kong rolled his eyes.

"Maybe I should kick your ass again, like last time," Peter snapped.

Thompson turned red. "You-!"

Ms. Flip paused. "Excuse me, you boys in the back, do you have anyone you want to add?"

Peter stared up at her.

"Spiderman," Flash guessed.

"Already on the board."

"Au- Black Widow," Peter said with a glance at the board.

Mc. Flip frowned. "I wouldn't consider an assassin an influential person, but I suppose she's a favorite of you boys."

Peter felt almost sick to his stomach at the thought, while Kong wolf whistled in his ear. _Dear God, _he thought as he slid down in his chair. _Let this end._

* * *

When they were signing the adoption papers, Tony had told Peter to keep his name. He said that it would be good for Peter to always have something of his first families with him.

Peter replied that he already had enough of them that he couldn't stand it anymore. He needed to move on. Peter Benjamin Parker Stark.

* * *

"Peter!" Someone yelled as Peter was shoving his books into his locker. Whoever it was had just come out of the Boy's Locker Room, which, unfortunately, Peter's locker was right next to. One day in and it already smelled like football and soccer jocks.

"Yes," Peter turned.

Harry Osborn grinned wildly and slapped his hand down on Peter's shoulder. "I haven't seen you all summer!" He explained, "I had to sit with the team during lunch, but I saw you and I waved, guess you didn't see me."

Awkward. Hyper observant, ultra-powered, spider-sensitive superhero misses friend waving at him from across a cafeteria. "How have you been?" Peter smiled.

"I'm great," Harry admitted, "still crap with my dad and the... asylum, but I've been pretty great despite it all. It's Senior year, you know, gotta kick it? So, are you still..."

"Junior, sixteen," Peter said.

Harry laughed for a moment. "I meant," he grew serious, "are you in a foster home? Did someone... I know that after your aunt you..."

"I got adopted," Peter said.

"That's awesome! Who-"

"Keep it down," Peter hissed.

Harry blinked. "Pete, why? What's wrong?"

"It's just..." Peter sighed. _Dad/Tony doesn't want the adoption to be public and take media away from his pro-mutant campaign, and he doesn't want people to know about him and Captain America while the Avengers are still unpopular from the Loki Incident, and I would rather not have everyone find out about me being Iron Man's son because then what is the point of having a secret __identity if everyone will treat me different anyways._ _Although Dad plans on telling people soon, I mean __he's taken me out to games and I'm 'Peter Stark' for crying out loud... Damn. _Peter looked up. Harry was expecting a reply. "_Dads,_" flew out of Peter's mouth.

Harry's jaw dropped. "You got adopted by..." He looked around and his tone lowered. "By _gays_?"

"Yeah," Peter said, head reeling with the sort-of not-really lie that he was not sure he should be telling, "and they're pretty bad-ass and stuff, I mean, you wouldn't expect them to be gay..." Thinking, Peter amended, "I mean, I think they're bi." He continued, "But I already get so much crap I would just, I'd rather not... talk about it."

"So it's..." Harry made an odd gesture. "It's cool?"

"Yeah," Peter said. "It is, and I have an aunt, and three uncles. We all live close together, and they're all home a lot." Peter smiled. "It's more than cool, actually."

"That's good, I was a bit worried about you, when you stopped coming to school and then at the funeral-"

"I'm fine, Harry," Peter said. He smiled. "I am, I swear."

Peter's phone rang.

Oh, right, it was the phone Tony gave him that could do basically anything in the entire world, looked like Iron Man's armor, and only played Captain America's theme song as a ringtone. "Uh..." Peter scrambled for the phone, but didn't manage to find it until '_Star Spangled Maaaan with a Plaaaaan!_' People passing by, and Harry, gave him odd looks. "I... I didn't set this," Peter explained.

"Alright," Harry said, obviously not believing Peter. "well, maybe I should come over sometime, and meet this great big happy family."

Peter's eyes widened in fear. "Um..." He accidentally answered the call.

"I want to pick you up from school," Tony Stark said. "You can go work later. I want to go out and eat something. You're a teenager, you're always hungry, right?"

"Yes," Peter said.

Harry frowned. "Is there something wrong with why me meeting them?"

"No," Peter said, "it's just..."

"'No'," Tony said, "I'll let you pick."

"One second," Peter said to the phone. He looked at Harry. "Everything's fine, you can come over" he said to Harry, which was not at all what he wanted to say but Peter was getting flustered, since last time Tony had randomly taken him out for food they'd eaten dessert that cost a thousand dollars and they'd spent the evening fighting crime together as Iron Man and Spiderman; it had been amazing.

"Cool. See you tomorrow," Harry said as he left.

Peter waved. He got back on the phone. "I want to work," Peter said.

"Why," Tony said, sounding like a three year old about to start a tantrum.

"My work is good, really good for being Spid... you know, and I enjoy it," Peter said, "even if it is just web design for a local newspaper."

"You can web design for me."

"That's okay, Dad," Peter said.

Tony was silent for awhile. "So, when did that start by the way?"

Peter flushed and grabbed his backpack. "What?" He asked. He shut his locker.

"I'm in the red Mustang," Tony said.

"Don't you dare come here."

"I'll be there in fifteen-"

"I mean it!" Peter looked around and ducked into the, empty, boys locker room. "Listen, _Tony_, if you want to keep this whole adoption thing quiet for a big longer you shouldn't just pick me up at school. I'm not a rich kid, alright."

"You're wearing designer clothes that were handpicked by the designer for you, Peter," Tony countered.

"And no one noticed, Mr. Frugal," Peter said. "I'll be home by seven, I'll swing by right after work."

"Swing by as in 'be there for awhile and then leave' or swing by as in _'swing_'."

"'Swing'. Web." Peter looked around carefully. "I'll go to work. I'll see you at home. Don't pick me up."

"Secrets are boring. How bought we get Cap and go on the Today Show?" Tony offered.

"Dad, for crying out loud, no."

Tony sighed. "Cap and I talked..." He paused. "And after what you said this morning."

Peter blushed. He slid to the ground, sitting on the dirty locker floor. "It shouldn't be a big deal," Peter said into the phone.

"It's a huge deal."

Peter looked at the floor. "Alright. But I told Jameson I'd be in today."

"Fine. I'll buy you a car."

Peter laughed. "I can't drive it," he reminded Tony.

"I'll build you new webslingers."

"You already redesigned them twice."

"Fuck. I mean, darn. What do you need?"

Peter laughed. "I don't know," he admitted, "I have way too much already." He thought. "Let's... go crimefighting."

"Well," Tony said wickedly, "I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I was assigned earlier this morning to this little situation in an abandoned science lab."

Peter blinked. "Sure it can wait."

"Oh, yeah, it's contained, just needs some people to rustle them up."

"Them?"

"Dogs. Possibly mutant dogs. Or wolves. Mixed with boards. Nine feet tall and gleaning with muscles. Fifteen or twenty. Tame stuff, you know?"

"Alright. Seven," Peter smiled. "See you there."

* * *

**Make sure to check the poll on my profile :) And review, you know, if you feel like making me smile.**


	2. Chapter 2

Peter stepped into the office and the first person he saw was Ben Urich. Mr. Urich stepped in the elevator just as the doors were closing. "Hey," he said, looking at Peter. After thinking for a moment, he announced, "Peter Parker, of course."

"Almost," Peter Stark said. "It's good to see you again, Mr. Urich."

"Nice to see you, kid," Mr. Urich said. "Haven't seen you since... since..."

"Loki Incident," Peter replied. He swallowed.

"Yeah," Mr. Urich said softly. He whistled. "I'm writing a flashback piece on that right now. Jameson's orders."

"That's cool."

"Yeah, it'll be much better around here though if we can start fixing that website again. It's been driving us crazy." Mr. Urich smiled. "Good to see you again, kid."

"Thanks," Peter replied. "Nice to be back."

The doors opened, and Peter walked into the office. He wasn't sure where he should go first, but after seeing his desk missing and replaced with storage cabinets, he figured he should ask Mr. Jameson. Peter knew it was a back idea, but, well, it had been awhile. He wanted to see if the old, noisy goat was still the same. Peter stepped down the hall and walked toward the office. He wasn't even near it when he could hear Jonah Jameson yelling at some poor camera man.

"Peter!" Betty Brant exclaimed, looking up from her work. "It's been awhile."

"Nice to see you," Peter said, "how have you been?"

"Same old, same old," she said, "unfortunately. You?"

_Just adopted by gay superheroes and the Avengers, fight crime for fun, my house talks to me, I call the Black Widow, Aunt Natasha, I have a new last name, and am set to inherit a trillion dollar __enterprise. _"Same old," Peter replied.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING STANDING AROUND THERE, KID? GET TO WORK!"

.

Sweat dripped from outside of Peter's mask, it sogged up in the heat-resistant, metal interwoven fabric and started making puddles somewhere under his eyes. It was like being underwater.

Peter struggled, holding the giant teeth inches from his nose.

"Dad!" Spiderman shouted, feeling safe to do so since they were kind of the only human, non murderous mutant wolf beings in the old laboratory. "I'm holding it!"

"One moment," Iron Man groaned beneath his armor. He was holding the fluid in his hands.

Captain America grunted. He was holding the back of the mutant wolf, keeping it from ripping Peter's face off with its paws. "You had _better _hurry up, Stark!" The Captain growled.

"Well, next time _you _can hack into a ten year old computer in a dusty lab for the alchemical composition required to seduce the mutant wolf specimen for Nick Fury, and _I'll _hang out with Peter."

"Don't worry," Spiderman said as his arms cried out in agony. Those teeth were closer. "We're not having much fun without you."

"Better not!" Iron Man growled, "JARVIS, where are we?"

Damn, throwing them into the acid and killing the ravenous mutts had been easy, trying to preserve a whole specimen, not so much. The mutant wolf shook between Captain America's grip. "STARK!" The Captain warned.

"HONEY-BEAR!" Iron Man retaliated.

"My face is inches from being torn off!" Spiderman shouted.

Captain America looked over the wolf's shoulder. "Don't worry," he said as his lungs heaved for air, "you're going to be fine, sport!"

"I don't see why I can't shoot webs in its mouth!"

"Blame Nick Fury for that one," Iron Man said. His voice was right behind them. They heard the grinding of machinery as he flew over the mutant wolf. "Hold him still."

"What do you think we've been doing?" Captain America shouted.

The mutant wolf suddenly sagged and went limp. It fell against Spiderman's chest. "Umf," Spiderman mumbled.

"Here you go," Iron Man said. He and Captain America grabbed the wolf's pelt and lifted the creature off of Spiderman and onto the ground beside him. "Well," Iron Man said, placing his arms at his side, "this'll make a fond memory."

The Captain wiped at the sweat that had built under his uniform. "Sure, now who wants to carry it to SHIELD?"

"Noses," Peter said as he touched his finger to his nose. Iron Man copied the motion.

"Oh, look," Iron Man said to Captain America, "it's you?"

The Captain stared blankly at them. "What?"

.

Peter stared at the bowl of ice cream at his lap. Perhaps that would make up for the rising bruises, but to be honest, a year ago he could never have imagined doing this, sitting here, and right now it felt so perfect. A year ago, Spiderman was solitary and just starting out. Today, Peter was squashed on a couch between two tired superheroes.

"I'm serious, Steve, you need to get used to this."

"I just don't prefer movies in color."

"Except the Wizard of Oz, and again, _no._"

"Tony, come on, just nothing too modern."

"That's all that matters, Cap."

"Tony."

"Steve."

"Let's watch a show," Peter offered. "One of the thirty we've taped."

Tony flipped through the recordings. He stopped on one of them. "This one?" He asked.

Steve just shifted closer to Peter and took a large bite from his oversized ice cream. He's captured half of the mutant wolf boars by himself, so Tony had ordered JARVIS to give him extra whipped cream.

Peter stretched his legs out and smiled. Sure, it felt weird being crushed between two men, and the home like setting was certainly, a thousand times, different from anything he'd ever had, but it still had the same feelings as movie nights with Uncle Ben and Aunt May, and it was different from that. This was comfortable, if odd.

And, rainbow sprinkles.

The show ended, and Peter thought it was about time for bed. He was exhausted. He yawned, and leaned perhaps a bit too much on the Captain. He was sixteen, and practically cuddling with one of his parents on the couch. Sure. Peter was normal.

He could make a case about having a sad history, and needing affection, and never having someone strong to lean on, but to be honest, Peter was just plain sleepy.

"Pete," Tony said, "I think we should talk about going public."

Peter blinked.

Steve looked up. He acted prepared for this.

"I don't think we should keep treating your adoption like a secret. Steve and I have been planning this for about a month now," Tony said, "but we feel like we should not keep tip toeing around the subject."

Peter frowned. "Spiderman too?"

"Well..." Tony shrugged. "I'll leave that up to you. But, Peter Stark, aren't you a big tired of keeping your parents a secret?"

"We aren't saying we're going to go on CNN and announce it," Steve explained, "but we're not going to worry if it gets public or not."

"Which it probably will," Tony added.

Steve looked at him. Then he turned back to Peter. "I know it has to be tough, considering Tony and I..." Steve turned red.

"Are totally banging," Tony completed.

"Oh God," Peter clamped his hands down over his ears.

"But we love you!" Tony screamed into Peter's covered ear, "As a son, not the creepy way!"

"Shut up!" Peter laughed. He grabbed one of the pillows they'd kicked to the floor and threw it into Tony's face.

Steve grinned. "You deserve that."

"He's your son," Tony Stark muttered as he leaned back, disgruntled.

Steve held out his hand and Peter gave him a high five.

"Mutiny," Tony said.

"I thought we were allowed to mutiny," Peter said, "one, if you ever start drinking too much, two, if you ever start a sentence with 'pink armor', or three, if you ever get too pigheaded."

"I only agree to one and two," Tony Stark stated.

"But," Steve said, turning the attention back to where it was needed, "you get what we're saying, Pete?"

Peter swallowed. "Yeah," he said, though he wasn't too fond of it. "I understand. No more avoiding the whole 'Peter Stark' thing. I just have one question."

"Go on," Tony gestured.

"Is the Iron Man, Captain America thing still under wraps?" Peter asked curiously.

Steve's cheeks were a dark shade of red. "No," he said.

"No?"

"Nope," Tony Stark announced. "Let the world know." Steve flushed darker, and Tony grinned suggestively at him.

"I'm leaving," Peter jumped to his feet. "See you in the morning!"

.

"Society is made up of literally millions of different events, all happening at the same time," Ms. Flip announced. "All of these events have figure heads, and the list we wrote yesterday-" she gestured to a paper filled with names she's taped to the chalkboard, "are all people who are traceable to different events. Here, number one, Barack Obama. Yes, you."

"Gay rights?"

Ms. Flip nodded. "What else?"

An African American student raised his hand. "Black people," he announced.

Ms. Flip nodded, and, thinking for a moment, wrote 'African American President' on the board.

"And next?"

"Senator Kelly and the Mutant Crisis?"

_Peter Parker and the 'oh, yeah, assholes, my dad is Tony Stark', crisis? _Peter rested his head on his hands and tried not to notice the tiny strips of paper which Flash Thompson, apparently bored, was ripping out of his notebook and doing his best to flick them into Peter's eyes. Maybe Peter should just yell it at Thompson and he would stop. Peter could spend the next two years of high school _not _being a complete loser. But, friends who just want to see your superhero parents, hold their shield, and meet your aunts and uncles are not actually friends. Besides, Peter had been keeping secrets for so long he'd forgotten how to stop holding them back.

"Tony Stark?" Ms. Flip asked.

"Loki Incident," someone answered.

"The Stark Energy Initiative."

"Iron Man vs. the Supreme Court."

"What about that thing this morning?" Liz Allen asked.

"Oh my God!" One of the girls in the class jumped up in her seat. "You mean when he was on the show after last period?"

Peter's eyes widened. He slipped down into his seat, pushing his collar up his ears; he hoped Flash would not see the red rising on his cheeks. _What did Dad do now?_ Peter Stark grimaced.

Ms. Flip paused. "Well." She swallowed. "Phones." She held out her hand. Liz Allen sighed, and gave it to the teacher. Ms. Flip went to the other girl.

"I watched it on Liz's phone," the girl lied.

Ms. Flip sighed and just accepted that. "Well, is this history in the making?"

The other girl started to giggle, which prompted several stares. Liz Allen had an enormous grin on her face when she answered, "_Believe _me. It's history."

"It's probably still on," Gwen Stacy said.

Peter hadn't known she was in this class, but she was sitting in the front left corner and one of the larger boys from the D&D club, which Peter had been a part of until he'd gotten his powers, was blocking her from sight.

Ms. Flip rolled her eyes. "Alright, no more phones," she slid Liz Allen's phone back on the blonde's desk, "who has seen this Iron Man..."

"Interview," Liz Allen finished with a giggle.

"Grow up," Gwen Stacy mumbled.

"Who has seen this interview?" Ms. Flip asked. All of the girls but one raised their hands, and not a single boy did. "Well, if it's history in the making, perhaps we should watch it. Liz, what channel was this?"

"_I _think it's disgusting," a curly brunette, a senior who was a year older than Peter, inputed.

"Homophobe," Gwen Stacy growled.

Peter's eyes widened. _Fuck. _Tony never waited, did he? Just last night they'd said and now, "Damn."

Ms. Flip adjusted the projector. "Alright, one moment, let me find it." She hovered over her computer screen.

"Homo?" Kong leaned forward and shouted across the room to Liz Allan, "Iron Man is a homo?"

"Or like, totally bi," Liz fixed.

"That's such shit!" Flash Thompson hit his hand against the desk, making a statement despite the small noise. "Everyone's turning fucking gay, my dad says people like that are ruining the standard of life in America."

_America 'is' gay, _Peter thought. Peter Stark knew it. He had seen Steve cradle Tony's head after they'd lost one of their missions and Tony'd been drinking; he'd accidentally walked in to see Steve staring at Tony, who had been obliviously absorbed in his work. Captain America, America's symbol, was gay.

Or, at least, bi. Or, at least, as Tony had originally explained it to a flabbergasted Peter Parker, 'We just found in each other what we couldn't find anywhere else.'

"Love is love, dumbass," Gwen Stacy growled, "and you don't have the right to say who gets to love who."

"Freedom of speech, I have the right to say anything even if you don't agree with it," Flash countered.

"Doesn't mean you should try to force your morals on others!"

"I'm not," Flash snapped, "I just think homos and mutants are freaks and I'm not afraid to say it!"

"I'll show you a freak after I finish with your face!" Gwen stood up.

"Gwen!" Peter jumped to his feet.

Ms. Flip stood up. "Ms. Stacy! You have both made your points, neither of you needs to resort to violence!" She glared at Gwen.

Gwen glared back. She folded her arms. She stared.

"Whatever," Gwen huffed. She sat down.

Peter, awkwardly, sat down as well. He could feel Flash glaring at the back of his neck.

"I didn't need _help, _Parker," Thompson spat viciously out of the teacher's earshot.

Ms. Flip had a live feed from an interview on her computer. "Shall I play, or will I make you all write a report on how changes in economy affect individual morale?"

"Playing is fine," Liz Allan urged.

"Yeah," another girl in the class said.

She played the interview.

"Well, it's one in the afternoon, and I'm Al Collins, bringing you the latest celebrities in America." Al Collins flashed his perfect, Hollywood smile at the screen.

_Ah. _Peter recognized him. Al Collins had interviewed Tony Stark twice before, at least when Peter was there. There had been... right after the Loki Incident. Peter had not been there, but he remembered hearing it had gone well.

Or, he remembered Tony saying it had gone well and Steve telling Tony that _he_, Steve, felt like it could have gone, _much_, much, _a thousand _times, better.

And then there had been that time... somewhere in the middle of the summer. Tony had been on the show to discuss the rise in mutant suicides. Peter had watched that. Al Collins had not liked what Tony had to say. The 'interview' turned into a full blown argument about civil rights and the definition of humanity.

Al Collins' final argument had been, "I... you... Commerci-!" Tony Stark had been very smug after that.

"Why," Peter muttered quietly to himself, "why the hell would you go back to that interviewer?"

"Please welcome, Natasha Romanov and Tony Stark!" Al Collins gestured wildly to the side of the stage.

Peter's eyes widened. _Aunt Natasha? On television?_

At least she looked good. In fact, she looked great. So great, that Flash leaned across Peter's back to punch Kong in the arm, and they both smirked. Peter's arms stiffened. She was wearing a tight black dress that looked stunning and, due to the strategic cuts on the bodice, was not conservative. Tony Stark matched her perfectly, in a casual black suit nix-tie-and-jacket ensemble. Peter guess they'd both planned that together. Dad walked her up stage and gestured graciously to the seat, letting her sit down before he did.

If Peter recalled, Natasha and Tony had only started getting along famously only after Peter and Natasha grew closer.

"This is a first, isn't it?" Al Collins said to Natasha just as the theme music stopped.

Natasha smiled, her typical smile that was somewhere between a kind expression and a condescending one. "I've been interviewed many times," she said, "on television. Never as Natasha Romanov."

Al Collins blinked. "Ah." He adjusted his collar. He was showing either a healthy amount of fear or an unhealthy amount of sexual attraction from the Black Widow's presence.

"I believe we are here to discuss the Avengers continued presence in New York," Natasha said.

Tony Stark leaned back casually and smirked.

"Of course," Al Collins smiled broadly. "Now, do the two of you feel that, after the Loki Incident over six months ago, that the Avengers should still... 'nest' here?" He smirked at his own joke, an obscure reference to Hawkeye.

Natasha didn't flinch. "Yes."

Tony leaned forward. He elaborated, "New York and the United States face a fair amount of threats every day. Believe me, we are not just sitting back on eggs in our tower. As a whole, the Avengers Initiative has yet to go on a mission together, but we had solved many problems and stopped many possible tragedies in smaller groups of about two or three."

"Why haven't the American people heard about these?" Al Collins asked. He was grinning so hard he looked like a freakish clown.

"Telling the general public our every move would be counter productive," Natasha stated flatly.

Tony nodded and laughed. "As a division of the government, we aren't going to be constantly updating our twitter telling everyone our position. Who knows who'd subscribe to that?"

"But aren't you Russian?" Al Collins asked Natasha.

"I was born Russian. I am an American citizen do to issues I faced in my home country. I am a member of SHIELD." Natasha smiled briefly before her face returned to a passive blankness.

"Is there a large amount of secrecy in the Avengers?" Al Collins asked.

"Relatively," Tony Stark said, "we prefer to keep some things, especially personal things, private."

Al Collins chuckled. "Since when does Tony Stark keep things private?"

There was a resulting laugh from the audience.

Tony, smugly, crossed his leg over his knee and said, "Oh, I think I might surprise you."

Al Collins leaned back in his chair. His outrageous smile had faded to a grin, although his Hollywood white teeth still showed. "Like what?"

Tony Stark drawled, "Oh, Al, you haven't changed a bit, have you?"

Al Collins looked at Natasha. "What sort of secrets have the Avengers been hiding from us?" He asked the master assassin.

"You're asking me, just like this, to tell you a secret?" Natasha asked. "Alright." She glanced, so quickly anyone without superpowers would miss it, at Tony. "The Avengers, all of us, have grown close. We share a floor, which, for research and training purposes, has a lab and a gym beside each other. Last Thursday, Tony was kicked out of his apartment and slept in the lab. Clint had to take him back to his apartment and, Mr. billionaire, playboy, philanthropist slept on the couch."

Peter smiled slightly at the nickname, all of the Avengers, when referring to Tony, gave him the excessively long title 'billionaire, playboy, philanthropist'. Besides, he knew why Tony had been kicked out too.

"So," Al Collins' smile returned, "am I right in assuming that you, Ms. Romanov, and Tony Stark are currently dating?"

Natasha Romanov lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes?" Al Collins asked after considerably time had passed and she did not reply.

Tony Stark coughed deliberately into his hand.

Al Collins barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. "Yes," he said, his gritting his teeth as he smiled, "Mr. Stark?"

"I am dating a member of the Avengers," Tony said.

There were guffaws and laughs from the audience.

Al Collins smirked. "Yes, so the world inferred after you broke up with Ms. Potts so quickly after the Avengers Initiative."

"That was a different thing entirely," Tony Stark said.

"May I say," Al Collins gestured to Natasha and Tony. "The two of you make a beautiful couple. Can we expect to see more of you together in the future?"

Natasha grimaced.

"Mr. Collins." Tony adjusted his seat and leaned forward. "I am dating a member of the Avengers but it is not the Black Widow."

Al Collins blinked.

The girls in Peter's class squealed. Ms. Flip stared at the screen with her jaw open. "Ugh," Kong grumbled. Most of the boys in the class made similar exclamations of disgust.

"Are you..." Al Collins stared. "Coming out?"

Tony Stark laughed. "It's not like I've ever been anything different, nor do I feel the need to announce myself. I am merely mentioning that I am currently in a committed relationship."

"With whom?"

"All of the secrets in one day?"

The bell signaling the end of class rang.

"Damn, Collins, I thought you knew how to haul in ratings?"

"Well," Ms. Flips paused the interview.

"What!" Someone, one of the boys, protested, "It was just getting good."

"School is over. You can watch the rest of this interview at home."

.

PLEASE check my poll on my profile. Because I'm actually entertaining a non-typical idea for the pairing. (p.s., you can vote four times)


	3. Chapter 3

.

"I'm home," Peter shouted. He dumped his bag on the ground. JARVIS would bring it to his room. "Dad?"

There was a loud bang, and Tony Stark ran down from his lab. He looked at Peter and paused. "Hey, Pete," he said extremely loudly with his head slightly angled back toward the lab.

Peter paused. "Fondue?" He asked.

Tony smirked. "Yeah. Fondue. I'll give you a hundred dollars to go out and do anything right now."

Peter did not think, he just held out his hand. Tony scrambled down to Peter's level. He reached for his wallet and pulled out two fifty dollar bills. "I saw the interview," Peter said, "we watched part of it in class. So, what's your game?"

"Xavier needed a break," Tony replied. He leaned back and cracked his spine. "And I felt like the Avengers hadn't been in the news enough. That first question though, that was one we needed to answer." He looked up. "JARVIS, two glasses of wine in the lab please."

"Yes sir," the robotic voice answered.

"When is the 'Peter Stark' bit coming up?" Peter asked as he stuffed the bills in his pocket.

"Oh, I have to milk it. Don't worry." Tony turned to leave and then turned back. "Oh, Thor's back in town," he replied, "so Jane and Darcy stopped by. Darcy was down in the lunch room on her laptop. You two like hanging out, don't you?"

"Yeah," Peter said, "but I was going to-"

"There isn't much you can do without me or Steve. So go out with a girl. Have fun. Good god, Pete." Tony Stark waved Peter away. "Go. Be hormonal."

"That is the exact _opposite _of Pop's advice," Peter replied. "Isn't it funny how you're nearly twenty year older?"

"Steve is in his nineties, Peter," Tony replied. "Now go," he exclaimed, "be normal, my web-slinging, fifteen-year old spider-child."

"Go... fondue," Peter said as he opened the door.

"I regret ever telling the two of you that," Steve Roger's weary voice came from the way of the labs.

Peter shut his door quickly before he saw anything.

.

"So, I'm totally in a fight with my girlfriend, who is not my _girl_friend, girlfriend, but shee might be, since she's bi but she's totally more into guys right now," Darcy sucked on her soda and continued to ramble on as she typed into her computer, "which is weird cause I like, totally go either way _all _of the time and she is like, sometimes she likes guys, sometimes she doesn't."

"But...?" Peter tried to get the point.

"Shipping war!" Darcy's eyes flickered to Peter. "You know, the whole fangirl world has gone crazy since your dad's _big _announcement; and so I'm like totally defending the whole Iron Man / Captain America thing, but all of my friends think it's Stanner-"

"Stanner?"

"Stark and Banner," Darcy said, talking a mile a minute, "'cause they're both scientists. They're all like, 'Hawkeye is too straight, and Thor's dating your boss' and _no one _thinks Captain America is gay. But I know the truth, right? Except, they don't know me and Jane actually hang out with you guys all the time, they think I just did it once and that was when I was in that photo with Mr. Banner and your... what do you call him again?"

"Pop."

"Yeah, your pop, so they're all like, 'You met the guy, how can you say Captain America is gay', but I'm like defending the whole relationship thing, and when they all find out I'm right they'll be totally mad. Can I have a picture with you in your uniform?" Darcy sucked on her straw.

Peter's eyes had glazed over. He blinked. "Huh?"

"Can I," Darcy said slowly, "have a picture, with Spiderman?"

"Date me," Peter poked at his straw.

"I told you," Darcy joked, "not until you're in college. I'm twenty-two, you're sixteen."

"Bite me."

"Please," Darcy pleaded, "you have no idea how popular I am on the internet."

Darcy and Peter had bonded over the simple fact that they were the two youngest people in the world with SHIELD clearance. Due to Darcy's experience with Thor and Jane Foster, she had become an anomaly of clearance. It had to be granted to her, since she knew already what the clearance would have told her, and then when Thor introduced her, and Ms. Foster, to the rest of the Avengers by taking them _onto _the SHIELD helicopter, well, her clearance level just kept rising. And All Darcy did now was slack off in college, because she now had a guaranteed job as whatever she felt like in the military, and do odd things on the internet. Peter, already being under Nick Fury's watchful eye for being Spiderman, had been quickly inducted as 'temporary Avengers member' and therefore had some of the highest clearance in the entire world, just like Darcy. The two of them held secrets that even the President didn't know. Darcy knowing Peter was Spiderman felt almost normal. They both knew everything anyway.

"Aren't people going to ask how you managed to get a picture with me?" Peter asked.

Darcy jumped to the challenge. "Let's go in an alley and you can save my life."

"No."

"Please? Pretty please, lots of love, my darling Peter Stark?"

"No."

"Petey?"

"If we do, will you tell my dads that you hung out with me all night?" Peter looked at her. "That we got dinner and went to see a movie, and I was with you the whole time."

Darcy was surprised, but quickly adopted the persona of a fellow conspirator. "Sneaking out? A girl?" She smirked, "A boy?"

"No," Peter said stiffly, "crimefighting."

"Boring," Darcy rolled her eyes. "Get hormones, Peter. Then we can talk about _feelings._"

Peter stared. "No."

"Yes, I will lie for you," Darcy sucked on her straw, "put on the suit, big shot superhero."

.

Peter shot a web down into Ox's mouth. "So _this _is cow tipping," Peter quipped. He lightly jumped off of Ox's head and onto the side of the bank.

Ox ran forward, howling an articulate "Rargh!" as his head hit the wall.

"Oooo," Spiderman cooed sympathetically. "That's gotta hurt."

There was the sound of a whip snapping. Peter's eyes flipped to the entrance of the bank. He'd been trying to turn the fight closer toward the vault in the back. Even though the bank was small, the more distance he managed to lure the Enforcers away from the window entrance, where the two bank tellers and the older man were tied up, the better.

Montana snapped his whip again, inches from where the three people were cowering. "Come here, itsy bitsy."

"That was almost smart," Peter clapped his hands together, suspended on the wall by his feet. "Alright." Spiderman hopped to the floor. He knew there were only moments before Ox was unstuck and came after him as well. "Let's dance, Hannah," Spiderman spread out his arms.

Montana took the bait and stepped forward. "Hannah?" He paused.

"Hannah, Montana," Spiderman explained.

Montana blinked. The thought connected. His face turned red with rage. "Oh, you're gunna get it!" Montana charged forward, his whip at the ready.

_Time it_, Peter coached himself. _One._

Montana was so close Peter could smell him.

_Two_.

A vein was sticking out of Montana's forehead. He looked really ugly.

_Three._

Montana's eyes were blue.

_Er.. Four and a half._

Montana was kind of slow.

Spiderman jumped.

Montana snapped his whip, and he caught Ox straight in the ass. The strong man howled, and the whip-wieldin' villain sputtered.

"It's the cliiiiii-iimb," Spiderman sang as he crawled onto the ceiling. His spider sense was _killing _him right now. "And something abboooout a butterfly IIIII thiiiink."

There was a gunshot, one of those wretched shots that made the ears ring. It was uncomfortably close to Peter's pinky toe.

"Yowza!" Fancy Dan's guns clicked as he jumped into view behind a teller's desk. "I got you!" He shouted delusionally.

Spiderman reached out for webbing. The webs caught on the coffee pot. He tugged. Hot coffee spilled all over the floor and Fancy Dan's head.

"ARGH!" Fancy Dan dropped his guns as steam rose up out of his skin.

_Shiiiiiit_, Peter winced, _that must buuuurn. _He backflipped down onto the floor when he noticed the Ox running for Fancy Dan's guns. Peter jumped between the strong man and the heavy artillery. "Now you may not be my type, and Dad would kill me, but please, may I?" Peter held out his arm, ready to shoot.

He felt much more confident now that his web slingers did not backfire, and his formerly cotton costume was now light, arable leather interwoven with armour that could dodge small bullets and served as a buffer against full frontal attacks. No matter how confident Peter was, however, getting whipped in the stomach knocked the breath out of him. Spiderman gasped, and Ox grabbed Peter's neck. He swung Peter around, throwing him into the wall.

Spiderman's everything was _hit_. Montana laughed.

Spiderman struggled to stand, but he dragged himself to his feet quickly and turned around to face his two opponents. Once upon a time, there was an idiot who said blunt force damage didn't affect superheroes. He said superheroes could get thrown threw ten walls and fall twenty stories and still get up. Once upon a time, that idiot was so, so wrong. Peter's lungs burned like hellfire, his muscles screamed, his everything was wretchedly and horribly, terribly in pain. He could barely manage to hold himself forward. He sucked in air, trying to regain his lost sanity.

Ox punched his hand into his fist, his glare looking much more menacing with the trickle of blood flushing down from his forehead. Montana snapped his whip again. Somewhere in the background, Fancy Dan was still crying in pain from the boiling coffee.

_Pull yourself together, _Peter ached, _with great power. _He leaned down, gasping. _With great power. _ Spiderman sucked in a breath. _There are three lives at stake. _"With great power," Spiderman said. He stood strong, ready to keep fighting.

What Spiderman saw stopped him in his tracks. "_Mother of God_," Spiderman gasped in terror.

"Not gunna work," Montana said while Ox turned to look.

"Iron Man?" Ox said.

Prominent among the spectators and the policemen who had been standing outside watching the fight, Iron Man hovered in the air straight outside the window. The armor's arms were folded. And it armor could glare, then Iron Man was spitting knives from his eyes.

"Not him," Spiderman whimpered, "fuck."

Montana looked from Iron Man to Spiderman to Iron Man to Spiderman and then at Ox. "Do you get this?" Ox stared blankly.

Iron Man landed. He walked through the door of the bank, blasting open the locks. He stopped, and stared.

"Alright," Montana's voice shook slightly as he snapped his whip. He knew right away that the whip was no good against Iron Man's armor, and even Ox could only hope to match the armor's artificial strength. Montana stepped forward, showing a remarkable about of bravery for a thug.

Iron Man just blasted Montana into a wall.

"Hey! You!" Ox shouted stupidly. He rushed forward.

Iron Man blasted him, Ox stepped back, but managed to propel himself forward. Iron Man blasted Ox with both of his hands. Ox fell to the floor and did not move.

Iron Man continued to walk forward. He stopped a few yards away from a cringing Spiderman.

Spiderman swallowed. He sweated.

"Darcy said you two were at a movie," Iron Man stated roboticly. "Darcy lied."

"Um." Peter stared through his costume. So, his Dads did _not _know that Spiderman still crime fought without them. Apparently, Spiderman was not supposed to.

"And what," Iron Man stepped forward, "do you think," another step, "you're doing?"

"With great power comes great responsibility!" Spiderman exclaimed.

Iron Man grabbed Spiderman by the ear, and dragged him out of the bank.

The crowd of civilians stared, confused.

Iron Man looked at the crowd. "He's an Avenger," Iron Man said stiffly. He took Spiderman angrily by the shoulders, crushing Peter slightly as he did so, and flew off.

.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!" Tony had snapped. He had thrown Dummy against the wall and he was now pacing the living room, throwing anything he happened to come into contact with in any direction. The armor was gone, but somehow this was worse. Armor had diluted the true extent of Tony's fury.

Peter stood, mask off, still in uniform, in the center of the living room.

Captain America, as Peter couldn't help think of him even though Steve wasn't in his uniform, stood at attention directly in front of Peter. He stared, his eyes boring terrible holes into Peter's, and said nothing.

"GOING OUT WITHOUT BACKUP? THAT MAN HAD A GUN FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! HE SHOT AT YOU!" Tony had a lamp in his hands. The living room no longer had a lamp. "DAMN YOU, PETER! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?"

"I-"

"THERE WERE THREE OF THEM! DID YOU HONESTLY THINK YOU SHOULD TAKE ALL THREE OF THEM ON?"

"I've fought them before-"

"I DON'T CARE!" Tony's chest heaved. He stopped, about faced, and looked straight at Peter.

Peter nervously raised his gaze to meet Tony's. However, he didn't like the mix of fury, disappointment, and fear he saw there, so Peter Stark stared at his Spiderman shoes.

"God," Tony turned sharply and faced the wall, his voice quiet, he growled, "fuck this... shit."

"Peter," Captain America said sternly.

Peter rubbed his arm.

"Peter. Look at me." Captain America ordered.

Very, very, very, _very _reluctantly, Peter did. Captain America was stoic.

"Tony and I do not want you getting hurt." He said as his military stance, like a mask, made him rigid and awe-inspiring. "You are not to go outside and fight crime without us."

"I did before," Peter said before he realized the words were out of his mouth.

"WHAT was that?" Tony Stark jumped back. "Repeat that right now!"

"I said," Peter lifted his chin, "that I fought crime for a year before I knew you."

Tony's hands were fists. "And you GOT SHOT!" His chest heaved with emotion. "How many times, PETER, did you _almost die_?"

Peter did not dare answer, the number had grown past one he could count.

"You are still SIXTEEN," Tony shouted, "you have PLENTY of time before you go out and DIE FOR YOUR COUNTRY, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Tony," Captain America looked at Tony Stark.

Tony still reeled with emotion, but he bit his tongue.

The Captain looked at Peter. "We are taking away your costume. You are grounded, literally. You cannot crimefight, even with us, for at least two months. You cannot use your powers except in the gym. We will keep your web shooters in our room, if you want to practice with them you will need to get our permission. JARVIS will be programmed to tell us whenever you leave the house."

Peter swallowed, blood draining from his face.

"Your Dad, myself, one of the Avengers, or SHIELD personnel will drop you off at school, take you to work, and take you home. There will be no exceptions." Captain America set his arms behind his back. "Do you understand?"

Peter mumbled under his breath. "_Yes_."

"I did not hear you," Captain America said

"I understand," Peter managed to say.

"Go to your room. Get ready for school. We expect you down here ready for breakfast at six twenty." Captain America looked stiffly at Peter. "First, change out of your costume and bring it down here."

Peter mock saluted, his every muscle teeming with outrage. _YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME, _Peter wanted to scream. _YOU CAN'T JUST MAKE ME STOP HELPING PEOPLE!_

He _hated _them, oh _God,_ he hated them.

Peter could not just stop. He _couldn't_. What about Uncle Ben? What about responsibility?

Crimefighting wasn't some privilegethey could take away like his computer or an allowance, crimefighting was Peter's _duty. _It wasn't like Peter liked the bruises and the scars and _getting shot_!

WITH GREAT POWER COMES GREAT RESPONSIBILITY

Peter slammed the door to his room as hard as he could.

.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm baaackkkk

.

Last time Tony Stark had alcohol in bed was the night they decided to adopt Peter.

Steve rolled over on his side, and he watched as Tony filled another glass. "You're going to have to get up for the bathroom again in the middle of the night and wake me up," Steve said softly.

"You're going to sleep?" Tony asked bitterly. He sat on the bed and downed the harsh liquid.

"Tony," Steve said.

"He's going to get himself fucking killed," Tony growled, "Peter's going to kill himself and I just _know _somehow it is going to be our fault."

"Peter may be young," Steve said as he reached out his arm and placed his fingers over Tony's hand, "but he isn't some sidekick, he's a superhero and he has been for a long time."

"He hates us," Tony said. He struggled to pour a glass one handed, but he kept his hand under Steve's.

"Peter has his reasons for fighting, and we just tossed them aside. Pete's angry, he doesn't hate us," Steve explained, "believe me, I know how Peter feels. He's going to be bitter, and it's going to be rough on him. But he'll get through it, and he'll be better for it."

"Fuck this," Tony snapped. He took another swig.

"No more," Steve ordered. He sat up, crossing the bed, and took the alcohol off of the bedside table.

"Steve," Tony reached for the foul liquid.

"I'm serious." Steve stood up, crossed the room, and placed it underneath the portrait in the safe. "That's it."

Tony groaned. He lay back on the bed and threw one of the pillows over his face. "I told you," Tony blamed as he pointed an accusing finger somewhere near Steve's general direction, "I told you I would make a wretched father and look how _great _I am! Fucked it up already."

"Well," Steve said on the bed and looked down at Tony, "the cursing and the screaming was perhaps a bit much." He smiled and set his hand down on Tony's chest. "But you were scared. Hell, I'm scared."

"Of course you are." Tony's voice was muffled through the pillow.

"I've been scared this whole time. I was scared since the first day Nick Fury dumped Peter 'temporarily' in our laps," Steve confessed casually, "doesn't mean we aren't doing well as parents. Right now, we have to be the bad guys."

"We're not supposed to be the bad guys, we're supposed to be the good guys, that's the whole goddamned point," Tony Stark protested into the pillow.

Steve sighed. He crawled over Tony's body and into his side of the bed. "I know," he said, lying back and looking at the ceiling. "I don't like it. But I'll do anything to make sure Peter is safe."

"Rsingmasba," Tony slurred into the pillow.

"Hm?"

"I think we should give Peter to Natasha and Clint," Tony said, pulling the pillow reluctantly off of his face. He turned off the light with a snap of his fingers. The battery in his chest provided its own light to see by, and he looked at Steve.

Steve grinned. "A master marksman and a lethal assassin? Oh, yes, I'm sure Peter _Stark _would be thrilled."

"Fuck," Tony stared at the ceiling. "I forgot. Bambi has my last name."

"It's called commitment, Tony."

"I hate commitment. I miss being a playboy and a free man. No parenting worries, tons of women, no monogamy-" Steve punched Tony lightly in the shoulder. It still hurt. Tony growled and rubbed the bruising appendage. "No super strength..." Tony said, actually missing that part.

"Go to bed, Tony. You need strength to be a villain again in the morning." And Steve wrapped his arms around Tony like Iron Man was a teddy bear.

Tony rolled his eyes, and tried to sleep. When he finally slept, Tony had a nightmare where Peter was torn to shreds.

.

Tony had _always _had a problem with drinking. When he had invented Iron Man, he'd traded drinking for risking his life on a near-hourly basis. When Iron Man got old, Tony drank again. When Pepper Potts broke it off with him, Tony was piss-ass drunk for weeks.

When Steve came, Tony drank in miniscule amounts on a daily basis; a sip there, a glass at a party, some alcohol to spice up a dinner, a gulp out of sheer boredom.

The week before Tony decided to adopt Peter, he got very, very drunk. Then he stopped, entirely, completely, until the first time he had to make a decision regarding Peter's future. Tony drank when he designed rooms for Peter in his other two houses. He drank when they changed Peter's name. He drank the first time Iron Man, Captain America, and Spiderman fought crime together. He drank the day Peter asked him to drive to the Parker graves. He drank when he saw Peter staring at a girl and worried he'd have to give 'the talk'.

Steve interceded each time, normally somewhere around when Tony made an ass of himself.

.

Peter swung through the air. His stomach burst to the point of pain as he rose and fell, nerves jumping like welcome friends into his ears. Up. Down. Up. Like a child's swing. His webs, fragile, slight pieces of string, held his lithe body in the air. He was a passing shadow, a momentary creature; he was an arachnid.

His fingers touched a wall, the barest tips, and held him fast. A hundred stories below, there were people and there was activity, but it was nothing but emptiness to Peter. He was a predator in the sky. His eyes watched the world, seeing the people going by. If there was a thief, a murderer, a rapist, a thug, a human monster, then he would see it and he would stop them. The enemies were there to feel this Spider, this powerful creature of shadows, and to shake.

The Spider crawled up the building, slowly in his mind but like lightning to the world. His feet scaled the flat surface easily, and his body carried him higher and higher until there was nothing below him. Farther into eternity he went, ethereal, unchallenged. He was Arachnid; he was Creature. He stopped and looked, his eyes scanning the clouds which touched his feet, and he let his webs fly. The Spider held his soft and strong hands, the thread interwoven in his fingers, and he jumped.

And _damn _that alarm.

.

"Up."

"Hrgh ush, nush, nug," Tony Stark, the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, muttered and turned over in his drool.

Captain America, in a tan jacket, jeans, and a plaid shirt, poked his lover on the much discussed Stark mustache. "Up. We're going to school."

"Nm auh, eight yrs old," Stark grumbled. He reached, painfully slowly, for the blanket that Rogers had thrown on the floor. "No ugh." He

He pushed his nose into the pillow again.

"For Peter, not you," Steve replied.

"Hate," Tony said when Steve's fingers began to trail up his bare spine. His shirt had somehow pushed itself up to his shoulders in the night, and his pajama pants were now shorts. Tony Stark was a restless sleeper, especially when he had bad dreams. One of the perks of sleeping with Steve was that Steve was too full of super serum to wake up when a slightly drunk, passed out Tony Stark kicked him during the night. Tony, however, woke up too easily. A pigeon cooing, a slight movement from Steve, a computer switching on, a footstep down the stairs, and Tony was awake. Waking up after drinking though, was not so easy.

"Up," the Captain ordered.

"Fuck you," Tony Stark muttered almost unintelligibly. Oh yes, he was waking up and he would now be unable to sleep for at least thirty hours, but he was _not _happy about it.

"I made muffins and eggs," Captain America said.

"I thought life was sucking."

"Despite my effort to the contrary, I don't think my breakfast efforts will change the fact that Peter is angry at us."

"I'm tired of being a father," Tony found another pillow and placed it over his bed head. "Give him to Natasha and Clint."

"Despite the fact we grounded Spiderman, I don't think Peter actually wants that," Steve said. He sat down on the bed and set his large, muscular hand on the curve of Tony's back. "Come on," he gave Tony a strong, friendly pat. "I called last night and this morning, we have a meeting with Peter's principle and guidance counselor."

"What for?" Tony, reluctantly, turned, but he kept the pillow over his face because he knew he looked like hell and he was too tired to bother trying to seem attractive.

"If Peter is even a fifth as restless as I was then he needs his time occupied," Steve said.

Tony sat up and let the pillow fall onto his lap. He groaned as his body was forced to move so early in the morning. "So, basically, to stop Peter from risking his life as a superhero we are going to make him join the Art Club?"

"Don't phrase it like that."

"Eat me."

"Up."

.

Peter was pissed. He was so pissed. Because he had a wonderful dream about swinging through New York and he was _indefinitely grounded._

When Aunt May had grounded him, it had been nothing. Peter could sneak out and in quieter then a mouse. Now, however, there were two superheroes watching over him. Sneaking past Iron Man, Captain America, JARVIS, and the rest of the Avengers? Not as easy as sneaking past an elderly woman.

So he let Steve drive him to school in the Camaro. He even sat in the cramped backseat so Tony, who was wearing the dark sunglasses he only ever wore when he'd been drinking, could sit in the front and use both of the cupholders for relentlessly strong coffee.

Steve had made breakfast, which he apparently spent a long time on. Tony had eaten a lot of it, food helped cure his hangover; that was something Peter wasn't supposed to know. Peter hadn't eaten anything, and he was regretting it but would not give in and ask for the muffin Steve had brought along 'Just in case you get hungry, Sport'.

Peter kicked the seat in front of him. Iron Man turned around and glared somewhere underneath his sunglasses. "What?" Peter said, not bothering to sound innocent.

Tony Stark, the rock star of the superhero world, turned wordlessly back in his seat. Captain America glanced over, and audibly wondered if he could do anything more to nurse said rock star superhero's hangover.

Not-Spiderman in the backseat prayed that none of them would be recognized in school.

When they arrived, Steve drew up to the front of the building. "Why don't you two go to the office and I'll meet you inside?"

"Don't leave me alone with him," Tony muttered. If Peter Stark wasn't the teenager formerly known as Spiderman, he would not have been able to hear that quiet plea for help from his titled 'Dad'. Peter paused with his hand on the door. _Well, great, now I feel even more shitty,_ he thought.

With great power...

Peter exercised great power over Tony and Steve, didn't he? Peter screwed eyes shut painfully. _Comes great responsibility._ He was sixteen, he shouldn't have to deal with all of this crap. But they were a family, and Peter could have just accepted the shelter, food, and Stark name without making them a family, but he hadn't. These were the people who made up Peter's home, and he was treating them like crap.

_Fine. Your non-hero mission, should you choose to accept it, is to not make your dads miserable._

Peter almost hit something with the frustration his new goal put on him, but he knew there was no alternative. Spiderman, however not in costume, was not going to be a bad guy. And Peter really didn't hate Steve and Tony, they were just... unreasonably protective.

.

Captain America was the first one to actually enter the principle's office, because Tony got lost and Peter was with Tony trying to convince Tony that he was, in fact, lost.

"Good morning," Steve said as he sat down.

"Hello, Mr. Parker," the guidance counselor said. Her name, when Steve had talked to her on the phone, was Miss Hasting. She was sitting in the Principal's chair, however, so Steve had a moment where he thought her name was Doctor Earl J. Sampson.

He quickly cleared his head. "I'm not Mr. Parker," Steve told her.

Miss Hastings looked up from her paper. She blinked seven times, and set the paper down with shaking hands. She was a young, attractive woman who was very under qualified for her job, and had more then once fantasized about meeting Captain America.

She was literally unable to speak.

"I'm Steve Rogers," Steve continued awkwardly, feeling the need to explain, "I'm not Mr. Park... well, there is no Mr. Parker. Peter was adopted by a... friend, of mine, and I uh... moral support..." _It's not a secret. _"I'm here with my... partner... Tony Stark, on behalf of our son, Peter Stark." He swallowed. "We talked on the phone?"

Miss Cecilia Hastings was about to die.

Peter opened the door and walked inside. He sat down next to Steve. "Hi," he said.

Tony Stark, in sunglasses, designer clothes, and bearing an angry cloud of anger, also walked inside. He sat down next to Peter, making the teenager sandwiched between his parents.

"Miss Hastings?"

Cecilia Hastings, slowly, trying to stop the overwhelming urge to cry, nodded her head.

"These are my dads," Peter said to his guidance counselor. He had known here since freshman year, and had seen her much more then most people had. He'd known her enough not to like her, since she knew nothing about what she was doing and had, the first day of high school, given Peter three classes in the same period.

"Sta..." Cecilia Hastings clamped her hand to her mouth. She had managed not to cry, but her white knuckles revealed just how deep her nails were digging into her cheeks.

"I'm not actually Peter's guardian, I'm technically his godfather, but..." Steve looked at Tony.

"I'm Peter's father," Tony said. His voice was rigid. "We're here because we feel like it is necessary to sign Peter up for a few extracurricular activities to keep him busy. They have to be either before or after his job, and..." He remembered, "Peter has a study hall, can we make that another class? Robotics or shop or something like that?"

Cecilia Hastings cried as she nodded and took out the proper forms.

.

Peter's new schedule was very strict. He got up, and one of the Avengers would take him to school and watch him until he got in the building. He went to classes, and he did not have an empty period because now he was taking Robotics; Tony's idea. After school, Peter went to the Drama Club, which he had chosen because Gwen was in it and Mary Jane was going to be in it when she came back on Thursday. After that, one of the Avengers or a SHIELD personnel escorted Peter to work. After work, an Avenger or SHIELD personnel escorted Peter home, where he would be babysat for the rest of the night by said Avenger or SHIELD personnel. It was an unspoken rule too, that Peter was watched the entire day just to make sure he didn't do something stupid like save someone's life.

He ate his cereal and tried not to glare across the table.

Peter was glad for Steve, like he always was. If it was just him and Tony, well, Peter wasn't sure that much snarky wisecracking could exist without a murder.

"Well," Steve said with his excessive cheeriness as he poured Tony some very strong coffee. "I think I'll drive Peter today; Bruce wanted you for that... project."

"What? I'm not allowed to know top secret Avengers stuff anymore?" Peter grumbled.

"You weren't supposed to know it anyways," Tony stated as he accepted the coffee.

"Didn't bother you _before_," Peter said to his toast.

Steve smiled. "More juice?"

Peter guessed it was some sort of 1940's crossover that Steve felt it was necessary that the whole family eat their meals together. He woke Tony up before the Iron Man needed to be, every weekday, which made Tony pissed off, and Steve always made sure Peter was awake in time to eat a full breakfast.

"No," Peter said. He was sick of eating breakfast like this. He missed grabbing a protein bar or a handful of nuts on his way to crime fight before the first school bell. He missed having the freedom to control his own time.

He missed wallcrawling.

"Sport, do you still have your helmet for the motorcycle?" Steve asked a bit too happily.

Tony smirked as he took a sip of coffee. "You think you are so badass when you ride that bike, don't you?"

Steve turned crimson. "Shut up," he muttered. He untied the apron around his waist and hung it on the apron rack, which had a confusing assortment of aprons. There was an American flag apron, a black, heavy apron, and a Hulk apron. Steve always wore the black one, but Tony liked to hide the black one and force Steve to choose between American flag or Hulk. Wearing aprons was an unspoken rule in a kitchen frequently used by every member of the Avengers, plus Darcy and Peter. There had been far too many fires, and superhero costumes were not easily washed or repaired.

"I should be ready for dinner, unless Bruce, Thor, and I make a breakthrough with that... thing," Tony told Steve with a glance toward Peter.

Peter raised his eyebrows, interested. _So, Thor is involved in Mysterious Avenger Project?_

"Which I'm certain you will." Steve smiled at Peter. "Ready?"

"Yeah," Peter picked up his plate and put it in the sink. JARVIS or that prototype housekeeping robot Tony had just made would put the dishes away.

"Give us a kiss," Tony said as he picked up his computer tablet. Steve did.

And when a chaste press of lips held on for a bit too long, and they were both closing their eyes, Peter coughed loudly into his hands, "_Dads_."

Iron Man and Captain America, reluctantly, stopped kissing.

Steve swallowed, and began to head to the door. Right before Peter and Steve left the apartment, Tony called out, "Let's get some fondue tonight!"

Steve slammed the door.

.

Check out my poll and please review!


	5. Chapter 5

**I have weird feelings about this fic ever since I started rping as Tony Stark.**

**Hm.**

**I think we should put Peter in a giant safe box where nothing will hurt him and Deadpool can't get inside, and then put Steve in my bed.**

**Honest, writing this way now makes me feel like God and it's a bit lonely...**

* * *

Robotics used to be such a nerdy thing, Peter remembered with nostalgia. The Robotics Clubs of the universe were filled with nerds and geeks of all types and ages, mostly the nerdiest people a school could find, all trying vainly to make a robot talk. Peter, while genetics was more his forte, had been friendly with the nerds and anti-social fellows who had _formerly_ been in this club; most had been scared out. The Robotics Clubs were once filled with bullied, sad, lonely, bored almost-geniuses who did not care that they were labeling themselves virgins and freaks by joining.

Thanks to _Iron Man_, Robotics was now almost as competitive as sports, run by a teacher who was an ass and who knew what he was doing, and jocks or jock wannabe's all with superhero complexes, competitive natures, girlfriends, and the sole desire to make something shoot deadly lasers.

Peter took his respective seat in the back of the class, agonizing the loss of the second period of the day he had formerly used for homework and crimefighting, and hoped none of the dicks would notice him. Kong was here, with two other members of the football team, the jerk Vin Gonzales who had asked Mary Jane out five times last year, (if Mary Jane's account was to be believed, she had been ranting on about how all men but Peter and Harry were pigs) and a cheerleader, Sha Shan Nguyen, she was once of Liz Allen's friends as well as the only girl in the class.

Peter was forced into far too many encounters with the football team then was healthy for a geek.

Coach Chuck Tyler, who was the coach of the baseball team and also the only-recently-become-so highly competitive Robotics Club, was so big, frightening, and demanding that Peter was certain 'Coach' was actually his first name.

"Alright, team," he announced at the start of the period as if the six member elective class was actually the cast of an epic sports movie, "we have a new addition to our group."

Peter slunk in his chair and wished Doctor Doom had succeeded with that whole 'death ray' think eight months ago.

"Peter Stark," Coach Chuck said.

And that was when the five other students stared at Peter with utter confusion.

"Maybe that last name will be lucky?" Coach Chuck demanded.

Peter swallowed. "I'm not really..." He _had _designed web shooters, and had sat through hours in the lab with his Dad, but, "I'm not really good at Robotics. I'm just here."

"Well, 'just here'," Coach Chuck said as a red vein popped out of his forehead, "you need to get your head into gear. This is a class that competes with other classes throughout the tristate area, so if you don't want to _fail, _Mr. Straight A's-"

_Straight A's and B's_, Peter thought. He'd lost his 'Straight A' title when he got bit by a radioactive spider and no longer had study time.

"YOU HAD BETTER WORK!" Coach Chuck declared.

Kong turned to Vin Gonzales and whispered. He looked at Peter.

"PAY ATTENTION!" Coach Chuck said. He dumped a heavy book titled 'Robotics 101' on Peter's desk.

"Creative," Peter mumbled.

"Now, our lesson for today is circuit wiring! There will be a take home quiz at the end of the period!"

Peter yawned, and wondered if Tony Stark would do his homework if he asked the right way.

* * *

Harry stopped Peter on his way to the final class of the day and said he had something he wanted to tell him. Harry seemed happy, but the bell rang and they were forced to post pone said 'amazing news' until after class.

Ms. Flip told the class, which Peter barely managed to hear because Kong was being immature and kept whispering 'Peter _Stark_' to Flash Thompson, that they all had a project due at the end of the month on an influential person to the current century. It was a relentless project. She ordered a powerpoint with at least three slides, a video at least thirty seconds long, a costume, and a speech on why the person was important to current events. "Pick three people and have the names tomorrow, we'll pick the names out of a hat to assign everyone a person."

With Peter's luck, he'd get an Avenger. Or Jonah Jameson.

Thinking, and ignoring a jab from Flash followed by a, "What the hell, Parker?"

Peter decided he'd use the names of scientists. Neither Tony or Steve were scientists, the only scientist he knew was personally was Uncle Banner. And, well, Spiderman once meet Reed Richards. Oh, and there was Doctor Conners. And Norman Osborn. Doctor Otto Octavious.

Yay for crazed scientists. Peter knew all of the crazy scientists. Most of Spiderman's villains were mad scientists.

"Paaaaarrrker?"

"The project counts for half the semester grade-"

"Stark? Paaarker? Iddiiiiot Paaaarker?"

_Jerks. Annoying, freaking, jerks. _Peter was sick of them, he was sick of all of them. He was sick of Flash Thompson laughing in his face and Kong encouraging him. He was sick of relying on his Spidersense so he could avoid food thrown at him and legs to trip on.

Life was easier when he could jump into his suit and get away from Peter Park... er... Stark.

"What the hell?" Kong agreed with Flash.

"-it will not be accepted if it's turned in late-"

_Why the hell do you care?_

"I thought you were Parker," Flash smirked as if he was being clever.

Peter was sick and tired of this. In a thick, black pen, he wrote out the words, _I was adopted_, and turned his notebook so Flash could clearly read it. Peter glared.

Flash read it. Concluded the solution was boring. And went back to texting under his desk.

Peter felt like he'd just negotiated with terrorists. And neither of his dads would ever choose that option.

* * *

Peter looked hard for Harry after school, but couldn't find him. He had to go to the club, if he was late Peter wasn't sure whether a SWAT team or the Black Widow would run into the school screaming vengeance.

The man in charge of drama was a bald man with bright happy eyes, and he smiled gladly as Peter walked in the door. "Pete!"

Peter did not know this man. "Hi," he said apprehensively.

"Welcome to Theater Production Club," the bright older man said with a smile. His bald head gleamed in the classroom light. It was rather distracting.

"Pete," Gwen Stacy, leaning back like a badass in a school chair while fiddling with her phone, smiling at Peter, and kicking the scrawny girl in front of her, waved, "sit by me!"

Peter did, and he was so, so grateful that he had some company.

"So, Mr. Stark," the teacher, Mr. Hester, greeted, "why did you join-"

"Parker," Gwen corrected. Mr. Hester blinked. "His name is Parker, not Stark. What the hell?" She expressed complete interest in her phone.

The other members of the Theater thingy Club, were the scrawny girl in front of Gwen, a gothic girl scribbling fiercely in her notebook, Liz Allen, who was priming her hair and rolling her eyes, Vin Gonzales, and the currently not-present Mary Jane.

"Sorry, there must have been a typo," Mr. Hester said.

Peter was too brain dead from a whole day of school with no wallcrawling to bother correcting or explaining anything. He just sat down next to Gwen.

"Let's talk again about the script we're writing," Mr. Hester announced. He walked to the board. "The subjects we want to include are superheroes, growing up, and..." He looked at the gothic girl. "My Little Pony."

The gothic girl smirked.

Gwen leaned toward Peter and whispered. "She's Holly Hudson," she pointed to the gothic girl, "that's the annoying fucking Amy whatever," she pointed to the scrawny girl she'd been kicking, "who hasn't shut up for three days about Tony Stark being gay."

Peter swallowed. "Oh."

"Speaking of which, Peter Stark?" Gwen grinned.

"It's my name." Peter set his bag down and pretended to look at the board. The teacher had just drawn a superpony.

Wow.

Spiderman could be saving the world right now.

Instead: This.

Superpony.

"No." Gwen stared at Peter.

Peter, quietly, looked at her and said softly, "I told you I got adopted," he murmured, "my Dad's last name just happens to be Stark." _**The**__ Stark, actually__**.**_

Gwen's expression fell. "You changed your last name?"

"I wanted to," Peter whispered.

"Why?" Gwen watched Peter closely in concern. "Parker is your family name."

"Yeah," Peter muttered.

"Why," she said quietly, "isn't that like... don't you want to remember them?"

Peter shook his head. "I remember them enough, Gwen. I am on my third set of parents. I have been orphaned twice. I _needed_," Peter looked away from Gwen's wide eyes, "I needed to move on."

Gwen, seeing the sudden turn toward sad emotion, smiled and punched Peter lightly in the arm. "But _Stark_? I mean, come on, all anyone is going to think is Tony Stark. Like you're the love child of Iron Man and Hawkeye."

Peter blinked.

"That is disgusting!" The girl in from of them, Amy, yelled, "Iron Man is totally gay for Bruce Banner! Science buddies!"

Peter slid down in his seat and his face turned purple. _Oh my god._

"Have you seen the July 24th Avenger interview? Hawkeye _was totally _eying Tony Stark," Gwen Stacy protested.

"Fuck you," the gothic girl said, "Iron Man is gay for Thor."

"That would be hot," Gwen conceded, "but what about Loki? I ship Loki and Thor."

"No," the gothic girl, Holly Hudson snapped, "Loki and the Green Goblin!"

"Oh my _god_," Peter clamped his hand over his mouth to keep from getting sick at the thought of his nemesis, _Norman Osborn_, and _LOKI_.

"They'd be such shit together," Holly Hudson smirked.

"The Green Goblin's a raving lunatic who attacked our school," Liz Allen growled. Peter almost smiled and nodded at her, until she said, "_Wolverine_. Iron Man is getting it on with Wolverine or Cyclops."

"It has to be an Avenger!" Amy, the scrawny girl, reminded.

"Come on. If Spiderman is an Avenger, the X-Men can be too," Liz Allen said, "Iron Man could be getting banged by anybody."

"Or being banged," Holly Hudson smirked evilly.

Peter dropped his head on the table, put his hands over his eyes, and started to mumble a mantra of 'La, la, la, la, la, la, la'.

So _these _were the people Darcy 'ship war-ed' with.

* * *

"I'm a little teapot, short and stout," Peter sang quietly to himself as he got into the Daily Bugle elevator.

Bruce Banner, in his civilian purple shirt and jeans, was next to Peter. He kept sending Peter odd looks, since Peter had been singing nursery rhymes since he came to pick Peter up, and Peter's fingers seemed permanently attached to his ears.

"Here is my handle, here is my spout."

Everyone had opinions on Tony Stark's gayness, Peter had discovered. It wasn't just the girls in the Theater something Club, it was the girls and boys everywhere. Men tended to stay silent, unless to say, 'Well, he's _half _straight', and girls chattered on and on about things which made Peter feel far, far, far, far, far too awkward.

"When you tip me over, hear me shout-"

"I WANT THAT COLUMN RIGHT NOW OR WE'RE NOT RUNNING IT AT ALL! AND WHERE IS THAT HEADLINE?"

Bruce Banner, the volatile human rage machine, was surprised and then looked passively around the office as newspaper men, women, journalists of all shape and color, and Jonah Jameson basically freaked out.

It was calmer yesterday.

"So, this is where you work?" Bruce asked in monotone.

Peter swallowed, and his eyes quickly looked over his uncle for a sign of green. Nothing. Peter breathed out. "Yeah."

"You know, if my dad had told me not to get a job because he makes more then enough money to support me, I would never have tried to get a job," Bruce Banner joked.

Ben Urich was walking toward the elevator shuffling an enormous amount of paper. He looked up. "Peter, the link to the online catalog is..." He stared at Bruce.

"Ben, this is Bruce Banner, Uncle Bruce, this is Ben Urich, he writes for the paper," Peter introduced. Because, fuck it, everyone can recognize Bruce Banner and it's not like he was in school anymore.

"The Hulk?" Ben Urich said as he shuffled paper to his side and held out his hands.

Bruce smiled for a brief moment. "Not right now," he said. They shook hands, and Peter watched.

_That wasn't so bad, _Peter thought, and he felt like he'd just had an epiphany about keeping secrets.

"I didn't know you were related to the... Mr. Banner," Ben looked at Peter with unhindered suspicion. Well, he _was _a journalist.

"He's not, his parents are good friends of mine," Bruce said, "they asked me to watch him."

Ben Urich nodded, like he understood. Who really could, honestly, understand leaving _Bruce Banner _in charge of someone's child?

"Your Pop said your aunt will probably pick you up," Bruce Banner told Peter.

"Alright," Peter said.

Bruce Banner waved, and walked away.

Ben Urich, his mouth open, took a long moment. He turned to Peter. "You... know... the Hulk?" His eyes sparkled. "Who else do you know?"

Peter swallowed. "N... nobody... Uncle Bruce and my d... dad were close before his accident."

"Are you lying, young Peter?" Ben Urich pressed. Peter turned sharply and walked toward the corner of the floor where his cramped desk was. Ben Urich followed. "You have connections," the reporter exclaimed happily, "and you didn't tell me?"

"NOW!" Jameson shouted from somewhere.

"Me? Connections? You're kidding, my dad's a broke..." _Doctor, scientist, veteran... uh... uh.. _"unemployed." Peter winced.

Ben Urich nodded in disbelief. "Well," he said. Peter sat down in his desk and turned on the computer. "I just want you to know, that as a reporter I am very fair with taking the sides of the people I interview."

Peter blinked at him. "What?"

"I mean," Ben Urich said carefully, "I don't quote out of context. And that may be what Mr. Stark is looking for right now."

"I don't know D... Tony Stark," Peter tried to should but fumbled and ended on a mumble.

Ben Urich nodded sympathetically and tapped the sides of Peter's cubicle. "Just in case," he trailed off.

* * *

Peter got home, a bit jarred emotionally from having to ride in the back of a car with Aunt Natasha. She apparently felt constantly that they were being followed... or she only knew how to drive by taking back roads, screeching turns, and running lights.

"Your dads should be back soon," she said as she parked the car.

Peter gasped for breath, unable to break the grip his hands held on his seat.

"Want to spar, little paook?" Natasha asked as she opened the car door for Peter. (_*Paook: 'Spider' in Russian*)_

Still shaken, Peter stepped outside. "I can't," he said miserable, "my dads grounded me."

"They told me you could still spar, with one of us," Natasha told Peter stoically.

Peter could not remember if they had said that or not, but he decided not to question it. He was about to crawl out of his skin from lack of exercise and, well, wallcrawling. "YES," he agreed, "let's go, big paook."


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the wait. Our poll is closed now, Deadpool has come out the victor with over 100 votes! Yeah! You guys are awesome, truly.**

**Let's get this show on the road, sorry it took me so long.**

* * *

Yes. Peter was bruised. Yes, his every muscle ached. Yes, he had had his ass beaten to the ground by a woman. Yes, it had been almost pitiful. Yes, Natasha had spent half an hour trying to teach him a single move. Yes, he was sweating so badly he had to take a cold shower.

Yes, Peter felt better then he had in all four days of this wretched no-Spiderman punishment.

He lay back with a sigh and Pop adjusted the cold cloth on Peter's forehead.

Oh, yeah, and then there was the minor concussion. Which, since Peter had the strength of a human spider, was a very impressive feat for Natasha.

"Here you go," Iron Man, Tony was in uniform which just meant he was clanking around the living room looking rather silly in full armor, handed Peter a bowl of ice cream with half of a banana, mint ice cream, chocolate and caramel sauce, a cherry, and layers of whipped cream.

"No rainbow sprinkles," Peter joked. Iron Man sat down next to Peter on the couch, tugged off only the head of the armor, ran a hand through his hair, and then took a bite of his own identical banana split.

"None for me?" Steve raised his eyebrow. He looked, an annoyed expression on his face, at Tony's armor in an utterly silent but entirely readable way of saying '_Get out of the Iron Man, Tony, this is the living room not the war front'_.

Tony stuck out his tongue. Peter laughed. Tony sat back smugly on the couch. "JARVIS, turn on the news."

JARVIS did, and the news was playing some reel about poisoned fish.

"Wait for it..." Tony held up his finger. "Now." Nothing changed. He waited until the reported stopped speaking. "Now."

"'Tony Stark, the first gay superhero, is still making headlines.'"

Tony beamed. "Aha," he exclaimed, "the biggest news of the century. Xavier sent me an actual letter of thanks. We won't be seeing wayward mutants in the news for months if I can drag this out."

"'Speculation over his chosen lover, however, rock the streets of New York in-'"

"Two girls in that drama club you made me join got into a fight today," Peter said.

"Was it sexy?" Tony asked.

Steve glared from the kitchen. "Tony," he warned.

"Sorry," Tony shook his head. "Go on," he said to Peter with a mischievous twinkle in his eye that said he was not at _all _sorry.

"It was Gwen and this girl Amy."

"Gwen... that girlfriend of yours?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "'Friend who is a girl'," he corrected.

Tony nodded sympathetically. "Don't you hate that?"

"Tony..."

Peter continued, "The teacher had to separate them."

"'...which of the Avengers do you think..."

"Now I'm curious," Tony Stark loaded as much ice cream and whipped cream onto a spoon as he could shove in his mouth, a large drop landed on his beard. Peter decided not to tell.

"Gwen thinks you're dating Hawkeye. Amy insisted it was Uncle Bruce." Peter took a bite of ice cream.

Steve dropped something in the kitchen.

Tony thought for a moment. "No," he said. He ate his cherry. "Bruce is great for my research, but while he's fun to tease I don't think he'd keep his temper around me too long. And Clint's quiet." He licked his lips. "Besides," he added to the kitchen, "I like my men in skin tight, spangly outfits."

"_PETER IS RIGHT NEXT TO YOU_," Steve shouted.

"Oh, go fondue," Peter mumbled loudly enough that only Tony heard.

Tony smirked into his ice cream. "Here's to you, kiddo," and he took another enormous bite.

"'...Didn't Iron Man announce that Spiderman was an Avenger?'" Someone on television was saying, "'It's ironic that this only surfaced now, right? I think it's Spiderman!'"

Peter dropped his spoon in the ice cream.

Tony blinked. He stared. "JARVIS," he said, "mute the television and turn on something else."

"Yes, sir," JARVIS answered.

Peter thought for a second, and leaned his head back and laughed. Tony laughed too. JARVIS started to play jazzy music from the loudspeakers. Tony leaned forward and ruffled Peter's hair as they laughed.

Tony paused, listening to the music. He set down his ice cream. "Steeeeve!" He yelled although Steve was right behind them in the kitchen. "Stop making ice cream! Dance with me!"

"In your _armor_?!" Steve stepped out of the kitchen and glared.

"Yes," Tony declared, and he held out his hand.

"It's going to melt," Steve said.

"It's Frank Sinatra," Tony insisted.

Steve looked at Tony. And he sighed. "Peter..." he attempted.

"Go on," Peter said, taking a bite of ice cream, "I have a concussion, I'm bored. I like it when you try to dance."

"I can dance!" Steve defended.

Tony nodded. He walked forward and took Steve's hands. "I'm sure you can," he cooed playfully.

"I will make you sleep on the couch."

"Try it. It's my bed you sleep on."

"I'm stronger then you."

"I'm Iron Man."

"I'm Captain America."

"...Hm... Peter likes me better than you," Tony smiled, "right Peter?" He began to move, slowly, side to side. Steve reluctantly matched his movements.

"Staying out of this," Peter said.

Steve frowned. He glared at Tony. "You like to embarrass me, don't you."

"I like seeing you uncomfortable," Tony confessed. "But you can be embarrassing too. Remember when you thought JARVIS was a person?"

Peter laughed.

"Shut up, Tony.-"

Tony laughed, and tried to twirl Steve, but Steve refused and stood still. "Come-"

"FUCK!" Peter dropped his bowl, the ice cream falling to the floor. He jumped up onto the couch. The cloth on his forehead fell as well.

"Peter!" Steve shouted.

"FUCK!" Peter repeated. He stared at the television. His face had turned white.

"What is it?" Steve ran to Peter's side.

"Pete," Tony looked at the television. He read the words. "Norman Osborn released from rehab? I admit I don't like the man, but-"

"He's..." Peter could hardly think. His heart was racing and his spider sense was on a dull alarm.

"Peter," Steve put a hand to Peter's forehead, "the concussio-"

"He's the Green Goblin!" Peter shouted.

Tony looked at Steve. Steve looked at Tony. "Who?" Tony asked.

"He's..." Peter swallowed. "Out."**  
**"Well, he's an important man, isn't he?" Steve tried to remember. "Your friend, Harry or something, isn't that his father?"**  
**Peter sucked in air, his spider sense was boiling and he clenched his teeth. "He's Spiderman's nemesis," Peter said, "the Green Goblin."**  
**Tony thought for a moment and then chuckled. "Nemesis?"

"It's not a joke," Peter stood up. His spider sense was moaning in the back of his head, because his heart had jumped in its place. Not good. Last time he'd fought the Green Goblin... well, there had been a whole building in a certain place that wasn't there anymore. Before that, a bridge. Before that, they almost destroyed a crowd of people. Before that, a bus. Before that, well, the Green Goblin almost destroyed Peter's school, which was a pity, actually.

"While I may hate Norman Osborn on a business level, I don't think he," and Tony Stark kept talking while Peter listened.

They really didn't get it, did they? Not even Steve.

Peter wasn't just their kid, and he hadn't been their kid for most of his life. Peter Parker had existed long before Steve Rogers even woke up, and long before Iron Man was invented. And Spiderman? Spiderman predated the Avengers, half of the current mutant population, a good portion of superheroes, villains, and Peter's sixteenth birthday.

"I am not a sidekick," Peter said calmly.

Tony stopped rambling, and he looked at Peter. There was something in his eyes, the same indescribable look that Steve had as they let Peter talk.

"I am not just some teenager. I am not a rookie. I am not a kid in pajamas. I am not in the throes of teen angst. I am a superhero. I am Spiderman. If you can forget, for one moment, that you two are my legal guardians, can you remember how we first met? Remember that day in SHIELD? That _one time _you treated me as an equal? That was because you were judging me on what I'd done, not how old I was! I've been a hero just as long as you have, Dad!"

Tony Stark frowned. "I wasn't," he began.

"Peter," Steve stepped forward. He set his hand on Peter's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "I don't doubt you are a great superhero, I believe it and I am proud of it. I may not want you fighting villains all the time, but that is because I want you safe. I want you the strongest and the best you can be and even then I don't want you to fight. I'm not underestimating you, Peter, I trust you at my side. I think of you as an Avenger."

The weight of the seriousness in Steve's gaze, and the praise, caused a dark red blush to leak onto Peter's face. "Oh," Peter said.

"I know we haven't been in this position long," Steve continued, "but I feel like you have been my son forever. And like any father would, I want to keep you safe." Steve set his other hand on Peter's shoulder, calm, quiet, and said, "It's not easy for a parent to let a child go into harm's way. Tony and I know you're not invincible, we know you've been shot and hurt, and we also know that you are a thousand times more capable then we realize sometimes, but we can't block out the fact that it scares us."

"I'm sorry," Peter said.

"Listen," Steve compromised, "two months. Train with Natasha, me, and Agent Wessen for two months and leave the costume in the vault. After those two months, you can keep doing what you've always done, so long as Tony builds a phone into the costume and you call if you ever find yourself in too much trouble."

"Steve," Tony said.

"Alright," Peter agreed, his stomach sinking at the long wait but his mouth smiling at the prospect of finally, _eventually, _getting back in the game.

"And meanwhile, I'll assign some SHIELD agents to keep an eye on Norman Osborn," Steve decided. He turned to Tony and then smiled at Peter. "Let's watch a movie."

Tony hesitated for a moment, and then he shrugged. "As long as it's not 'The Wizard of Oz'."

* * *

A week of school. Where the bullying and the taunting and the homework and the schoolwork and the classes and the dullness and the world of crime going on without him to stop it and Uncle Ben's voice in his ear and Peter was close to exploding. It had all seemed so reasonable when Pops had explained it, but in reality, holding out for two months was wretched.

The old costume was in Peter's locker. It sat there, sewn up, slightly bloody, plain, skin tight cloth, glaring at Peter tempting him.

For three weeks.

The night Peter gave in was the night he met Deadpool.**  
**

* * *

****"Just a swing," Peter mumbled. Because it had been so, so long since he had been a spider. His entire being hated it, hated being on land, hated the exposure, hated having to reign back his abilities.

Wallcrawling, that was the first. He crawled up the side of his school, his spider sense keeping him away from any preying eyes. Then he shot out his web shooter. The old formula wasn't the improved one Peter had made in the SHIELD lab, this was the old webbing he'd made in his basement. It felt comforting, even though it wasn't as strong and dissolved too easily in rain. Spiderman shot out a web toward a close building, stepped back, and jumped.**  
**"YES!" Spiderman screamed, "YAHOO!" It was fucking glorious. His stomach dropped, his interstices churned, his mind was clear, and his spider brain took over. He sent out another web and headed south, and another, and another, until he was swinging through Manhattan heard a scream, and Spiderman immediately changed direction.

He dropped on top of an apartment building in the slums beside Yankee Stadium. There was another scream, Spiderman could identify it as being distinctly male. He crawled quickly down the building, silent and sheek, until his padded feet touched the ground. Another scream. Left. Spiderman ran. He stopped at an old, rotted door to what seemed to be an abandoned nightclub, and he quickly rushed down, his toes sloshing in liquid. "Oh, I do not want to know what I'm stepping in," he said. A scream, now a rough and grisly voice that definitely belonged to a woman, sounded out in this dark portion of town, and Spiderman stepped out of the yellow sunlight and into the grey building.

He was smooth enough that the door did not make a single creak, and he slid into the shadows the moment he stepped inside. There was a hallway that led to a larger room, so Spiderman crawled onto the roof and slinked his way forward to assess the situation.

A woman was tied to a chair, there was a stained towel in her mouth, that explained the rough and grisly town. A man holding a gun was standing over her, his arms shaking as he stared far away. A sound, a stomp, came from the right. The man immediately shot in that direction. "I'll waste her!" The man screamed, pointing the gun threateningly at the woman.

There was a crusted, deep, pained voice that resounded in the rusted nightclub. "Don't care," that odd voice said. "Do I? No. No, I don't care."

"You're insane!" The man with the gun yelled.

Spiderman, in the corner of the room, crouched on the roof, mumbled inaudibly to himself, "My thoughts exactly."

"Ted!" The man with the gun shouted.

"I killed your friend." The odd, crusted voice said without regret.

Spiderman's eyes widened. He had thought there was another hero here, what was going on?

"Ha!" The man with the gun jumped in confidence and fear, "that's where you're wrong! There were three of us!" His hands shook so badly on the gun he dropped it, and grabbed it again.

"Oh," the pained voice replied in a deep tone that was almost sing-song, "okay." There was the stomping of military grade boots. A man's scream. A shot. More stomping. "Ted died."

The man with the gun sputtered.

"That's enough," Spiderman jumped out of the shadows, positioning himself between the man with the gun and the bodiless voice. "Nobody else has to die. Just stop shooting, and let the girl go-"

There was a click, Peter realized his mistake just as the man with the gun, his enemy, readied the trigger. 'Dads', Spiderman flinched.

There was a cracking noise, and the woman screamed beneath her bindings.

Spiderman turned quickly, his eyes immediately registering two important things. First, the man with the gun was now the man with his head snapped and twisted one hundred and eighty degrees. Second, Deadpool stood over the body looking proud of himself.

Oh. Deadpool. That explained it.

Spiderman knew Deadpool's reputation.

"Hey," Deadpool said as the woman beside them hyperventilated in terror, "what does a spider do when he's angry?"

Spiderman took several, rapid, steps back. "Bite?" He ventured, holding his web shooters at the ready.

Grinning freakishly beneath his mask, Deadpool exclaimed, "He goes up the wall!"

Spiderman just blinked.

The woman fainted.

Deadpool looked at her and smiled to Peter. "I saved her from the perverts! She's Selena Van Dare, the heiress to massive fortune set to marry her love David, from the bad side of town, but her long lost identical twin sister Jenevive stole her identity and married David instead! Next episode is the big confrontation!"

Spiderman swallowed. "An actress?"

"My seventh favorite soup opera," Deadpool swooned on his feet. He jumped back to attention and Spiderman tensed. "Why are spiders like tops?!"

"What the-"

"They're always spinning!" Deadpool collapsed to the ground in pixels of laughter.

"S... Spinning webs?" Spiderman guessed.

Deadpool stopped, leaning on the guns at his thighs, and looked up at Spiderman. "Your ass looks nice from this angle."

Peter ran backward until he hit a wall. "Uh... Listen, I don't know exactly what is going on here but it feels like a one sided conversation-"

"Sh, Andrew Garfield, don't speak. Just friend me on facebook." Deadpool clasped his hands together and swung them to the sides like a tween girl, blood dropped from his right sleeve. "Spiderman, Spiderman, does whatever a Spiderman does..."

Spiderman sighed. Whatever happened, Deadpool had this covered. He was going to make sure the actress was safe, after all, without her the insane superhero couldn't find out the end to his soap opera. Besides, Deadpool was a superhero after all. He might not be one that any other superheroes would stab with a ten foot spear, but he was a superhero nonetheless.

"I'll... Go now," Peter said

Deadpool rushed forward, before Spiderman could register it, and grabbed his webbed hand. The spider sense didn't go off, so Spiderman stayed still. "Don't leave me!" Deadpool cried as if his heart was breaking.

"Yeah.. Um... Call me, maybe," Spiderman replied. He tried to get any by crawling up the wall, but Deadpool hung fast to his hand.

"You have to give me your number," Deadpool sang, "So here's my number...? Right?"

"Uh..."

Deadpool, the freakish, insane, murdering superhero, blushed and giggled.

"Oh my god," Spiderman tried again to free his hand. "Fine," he relented, "do you want me to write it down?"

"Yes!" Deadpool ran to the woman who had collapsed, found a pen in her pocket, and then tore up a floorboard and handed those to Spiderman to write on.**  
**Spiderman did, wondering if he was signing his death warrant. "Do me a favor," Spiderman said as he looked down at Deadpool from his position on the wall.

"Ermagerd," Deadpool said, sticking out his hand in a very, gay or high school cheerleader/Liz Allen fashion, "like, five eveh."

Spiderman just ignored him, and said sternly, clearly, "Do not tell Iron Man or Captain America that you saw me."

"Kiss," Deadpool said, his voice gravely anger again.

"No."

Deadpool ripped the floorboard out of Spiderman's hands and stuck it under his skin tight uniform, making him look... odd. "Do you text?!"

"Yeah...?" Spiderman regretted this. Whatever he was doing, right now, he regretted it. He might not be sure what was going on, but it was weird. He scuttled toward the door.

"I'M YOUR FANBOY!" Deadpool called after him, "I'D HAVE YOUR OVERSIZED TARANTULA BABIES!"

The thought was terrifying. Spiderman, on a purely professional level, found Deadpool entertaining. Yes, he had killed the three men who had kidnapped the soap opera star to rape her and had almost killed Spiderman, but somehow, even if Spiderman disapproved of the killing, it didn't, exactly, bother him.

Maybe it was the fact Deadpool seemed like an oversized puppy.

With weapons.

And blood on his uniform.

And Peter's number on a plank of wood in his pants and-

Oh shit.


End file.
